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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT: 






Copyright, 1915 

By Belle Bushnell 

Washington, D. C. 



APR 13 1915 



PRIVATELY PRINTED 

AT THE WAVERLY PRESS 

BALTIMORE 



©CI. A 3 9844 9 
Kp 4 



^ 



THIS EDITION IS LIMITED 
TO 250 COPIES 



Contents 

Life, Love, A Raven's Feather .... 9 

L'Immortel 27 

The Hillside Shrine 51 

The Guiding Oak 77 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 




,<r*^ 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

MAY day. A garden 
of ever blooming 
roses. And Life 
with Springtime in 
her soul, walked the 
ways, without com- 
panion other than Nature. And Life was 
brave. Life was earnest, and Life kept 
on, on, triumphing. Then time grew 
apace; but all the while Life kept going, 
going, over the glades and up the hills, 
11 




My Dream Life 

culling roses. Today a rare rose of 
pure white, on the morrow a darksome, 
crimson one, maybe. 




THEN came the midsummer day, and 
Life went seeking, seeking, but she 
knew not for what, until she came upon 
another in the glade, then Life spoke 
softly to herself: 

"I see, I see one all unknown to me, 
or is it only a shadow? no, I see it is too 
bright for a shadow. All golden he 
looks, and lo! he comes to me, I will 
ask his name." 

And the stranger came and stood at 
the side of Life. And Life said: 
12 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

"You are very beautiful, all bright 
gold and white, while I am a dull crim- 
son and gray. Oh, but look, see how 
your light causes my crimson to glow, 
and fades the gray away. Then too, 
the light has entered my soul. I feel 
a new force within me, I feel exhilarant. 
And, Golden One, I feel that all these 
strange, new, beautiful sensations, come 
to me, through you. It is well I met 
you in the glade today, or I may never 
have known you; and now you must 
never leave my side. But your name, 
have you a name other than 'Beautiful,' 
Golden One?" 

"Yes, a name, and Life I have ever 
been in your path. But Springtime 
wrapped you in her youthful meshes, 
and scattered her little pale blossoms 
over your eyes. But on this midsummer 
13 



My Dream Life 

day, Spring let the blossoms play with 
Zephyr, leaving your eyes uncovered. 
Then, Life, you awakened, and Sum- 
mer entered and enthralled your soul, 
and your soul called for that which 
makes Life perfect. Thus walking in 
the glade with uncovered eyes, you 
soon beheld me idling in your path, and 
beholding me, your soul brought me to 
your side, and dear Life, my name is 
Love." 

"Love, ah, the name bespeaks Life, 
Life in fullness. Is it not true, dear 
Love?" 

"It is true, dear Life. Life with 
Love; Love with Life, makes all per- 
fect. And thus we must walk, hand in 
hand, through our paths till eternity, or 
winter will enter your soul." 

For a season Life kept Love closely 
14 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 



at her side: Life becoming purified, Love 
glorified, as they walked the ways hand 
in hand, over the glades, and up the 
hills, together culling roses of sunset 
tints, and finding never one of a dark- 
some hue. 




THEN again time grew apace. And on 
a midautumn day the roses drooped 
on their stems, sadly letting fall a petal 
here and there, as Love and Life entered 
the glade. And Zephyr whispered 
15 



My Dream Life 

through the vines, and the roses heard 
Zephyr say : 

" We must hasten, cover, and give all 
warmth we can call forth to our poor 
roses, or they will be blighted, anon." 

"But why?" asked Myrtle and Wood- 
bine, "why say you this?" 

And Zephyr made answer: 

"Do you not see Life has dropped 
Love's hand. She walks alone, and 
look, Woodbine and Myrtle, and tell 
me, do you not see that Life is seek- 
ing? Now watch with care and you 
will see that the Gray One, whom I 
came upon this morning in the middle 
glade, will be somewhere near, and en- 
tice Life to his side. But woe to us! 
while we whisper the Gray One has 
come, come, and Life holds him by the 
hand. But hark, Life speaks." 
16 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

And the vines listened, holding their 
leaves still, still, and they heard Life say: 

"Ah, another stranger has entered 
my garden. But you look gray, and 
dull, and wolfish, I could never call you 
beautiful like the Golden One." 

"No, I am neither beautiful nor do- 
cile, though I am companion of half 
the world." Thus replied the Gray 
One as he grasped Life's hand. 

And Life replied: 

"Companion to half the world? and 
until this day I have seen you not. 
Why so, can you tell?" 

"Why so? yes, I can quickly tell. 
For a short time you have been calling 
me to your side. I hovered in your 
footsteps, but could not approach near 
enough for you to behold me. That 
was while Love held your hand, and 
17 



My Dream Life 

you walked side by side, with Truth 
and Harmony your companions, and 
summertime in your soul. But today 
I could draw nearer, and I sent, through 
the air, a Raven's feather, it fell at 
your feet, you withdrew your hand from 
Love's clasp, you reached for the feather, 
you held it before your eyes. Then 
your eyes sought and beheld me: now I 
hold your hand with the feather be- 
tween. And it will lead you to a world 
beyond your garden. I will not be your 
only companion. The Raven's feather 
will bring a multitude to your realm, 
and among the throng in high estate, 
you will find Avarice, Lust, and Insin- 
cerity, with Jealousy in close pursuit." 
"But, Stranger, even with the multi- 
tude, I would fain keep Love at my side, 
I will call him to me. I would not be 
18 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

Life without Love, and Love would not 
be Love without Life to walk the glades 
beside him." 

Then the Gray One pressed closer the 
feather to Life's palm, and in harsh, 
snarling tones cried: 

" Yes, call Love to your side, but look, 
look back, and you will see he has not 
taken a step since you dropped his 
hand. Look, look closely, too, and you 
will see how broken and old he is today, 
and see, he stands looking down, down 
on the dark earth, instead of following 
and reclaiming your hand. Will you 
now call to him? have you no pride of 
self, Life?" 

And Life answered: 

"It is as you say, but until this mo- 
ment I had thought Love beautiful, 
and called him ' Golden One.' And 
19 



My Dream Life 

now he looks all leaden, dull gray leaden, 
and I think, I think I am tired culling 
roses, and Stranger, I will go with you. 
You can be my companion, and lead me 
to your world. But your name, you 
too must have a name, tell it that you 
may no longer be a stranger to Life." 

"Yes, my name, you shall carry it 
on your lips, for the time is here, and it 
has been dormant in your heart for near 
a season, awaiting the Raven's feather. 
But now you will foster it with Dis- 
cord's hand in thine. Yes, Life, Dis- 
cord, the offspring of Desire and In- 
quietude, will lead you from your gar- 
den of everb looming roses." Thus 
again snarled the Gray One. 

"Discord, Desire, Inquietude. Oh, 
they seem afar from Love. They have 
the sound of tears, and woe, and death, 
20 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

death for Life. And Gray One, I fear, 
I fear, and my hands grow cold. I 
think, I think I will call to the Leaden 
One," cried Life in a despairing voice. 

And Discord quickly drew Life's 
trembling hands to his bosom, letting 
them gather warmth from the fluttering 
Raven, as it lay against his own cold 
breast. From this Life gained a 
strength. Then Discord knowing Vic- 
tory was his, smiled, and led life to the 
world beyond the rose garden. 

All the while Zephyr and the wood 
vines had not stirred a breath or leaf, 
but with Life passing, Zephyr arose 
fanning soft little waves about Life's 
beautiful head, carrying with them the 
plaintive pleadings of gentle Myrtle and 
Woodbine, and Zephyr, too, had whis- 
pered thus: 

21 



My Dream Life 

"Life, dear Life, renounce the Gray 
One, he leads you to tears and woe, and 
death. Draw back your hand while 
yet there is time, hasten, and clasp 
tightly Love's white hand in thine." 

And a Mavis, singing in a tall cypress 
nearby, sent with Zephyr the notes of 
his love song, Tril-i-ree, Tril-i-ree (Love 
is all, Love is all). But Life's heart 
was stilled to their love pleadings, and 
she kept going, going faster, and farther 
away, and Zephyr in despair, flew after 
her calling aloud: 

"Life, dear Life, turn, look upon 
Love, see he lies crushed on the dark 
earth. But lo! I see Happiness with 
all her companions hastily coming to 
his aid. Yes all, and look Life, they are 
lifting him in their arms. They are 
bearing him to the hills. Yes, see how 

22 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

tenderly Patience and Benevolence bear 
him between them, and see, Purity holds 
his head, while Chastity carries his tired 
feet, and fans him with her white willow 
bough. Oh Life, have you no regrets?" 
But while the gentle Zephyr pleaded, 
Life without looking backward passed 
through the glades and from the garden, 
leaving the Mavis still singing Tril-i-ree, 
Tril-i-ree (Love is all, Love is all). 




And still again time had grown apace, 

and the years rolled on, and on, while 

Life kept seeking, seeking. She had 

climbed high mountains in her endeavor 

23 



My Dream Life 

to reach a narrow, sunlit path, and 
found it in shadow. She had passed 
through deep, dark, lonesome ways, 
with high, jagged rocks, moss and li- 
chen covered, hanging between her and 
the blue over head. She had lived in 
palaces and in huts, until this midwinter 
day when she could go no farther, and 
then had fallen on a bed of dead oak 
leaves. There worn, wrecked, the once 
beautiful Life lay on the cold, damp 
leaves of the forest, with winter in her 
heart, and frost on her long waving 
hair. 

The sun had passed, and heavy night- 
clouds hung low, and Harpies came 
and stood in the thickets of Night- 
shade, waiting, watching. And these 
were Life's last companions. And Life 
moaned aloud: 

24 



Life, Love, A Raven's Feather 

" I have been over the long, long ways, 
seeking, always seeking for something 
to fill the void in my heart, and naught 
have I found worthy of Love's place. 
Why so? I have asked many times, 
and no one of the multitude could 
answer. Now I am dying, dying and 
alone. My heart beats slowly, slowly, 
and the light is fading, Yes this is 
death. I am cold, cold with fear, and 
alone. 

Oh Love, Golden One, if I could feel 
your hand in mine, it would be more 
precious than all the multitude. But 
now it is adieu, dear Love, adieu, for 
Death stands at my side with the Raven 
in his hand." 

Life's sad, moanful, lamentations 
reached the hills, where Echo sent them 
afar. 

25 



My Dream Life 

Then Night's deep silence crept 
into the forest, and the heavy hoar- 
frost gathered, and covered like a pall 
Life on her bed of withered leaves. 

Life had paid the ransom. 




26 



L'Immortel 



K I 




L'Immortel 

T the age of twenty- 
one I was a pale, tall 
youth, with dark 
eyes which seemed 
to cover the entire 
upper half of my 
thin face. So dense and dark weremy 
brows and lashes that they contrasted 
strongly with my almost flaxen hair. 

For three years I had been a student 
at the Episcopal Seminary, and when 
29 




My Dream Life 

nearing the end of the last term I was 
stricken with a fever that reached the 
brain, causing delirium for weeks and 
laying me low for months. At that 
time my father was rector of Saint 
Mary's. He wished me to study to 
take orders, and in time to fill his place. 
This was not to my taste, I rebelled, I 
had heard too much of the Church, of 
sermons, and the pulpit. For genera- 
tions the men of my father's family 
had been of the church. I had lived in 
its atmosphere, and was left entirely 
without knowledge of the world until I 
entered college. 

Of my life these three years I could 
not, would not, write, had they not 
ended with my purification. As I have 
stated, I was as a child when I left my 
father's house, and in my ignorance I 
30 



L'Immortel 

was led. I became the joke, the scape- 
goat, of all. 

The teachings of my fathers were for- 
gotten in my haste to learn the ways tp 
boast, to drink intoxicating liquors, to 
smoke, and to gamble. Yes, I will tell 
even that, the blackest part, the black- 
est of arts. I, John Montague, had 
learned to gamble, to gamble away the 
bread money my father had earned by 
preaching God's Word to help men live. 
His daily life, his work was beautiful, 
the best man can live. All this I now 
know, and his teachings, they too were 
all for my good. But I had gone 
astray, had wandered from his fold in 
my boastful attempt to become a 
man, — a manly man, as I had then come 
to believe that none other than those 
who could partake of the vices could be 
31 



My Dream Life 

a really manly man, one to be admired 
and emulated. 

In my attempt to perfect myself in 
all the leading vices I had become 
steeped in the deepest dregs of dis- 
grace and humility. Word was sent 
my father disclosing my disgrace. He 
could not come himself, but instead sent 
a letter each day begging, praying me 
to desist, to restrain myself, to cast the 
untruths from my life. For a time I 
fell under his spell, I remembered his 
words, his holy words, they came float- 
ing from the pulpit to my ears. Then 
again I wandered, and went still deeper, 
and now as a self punishment I will 
tell that his letters, my dear father's 
letters were cast aside unopened, un- 
read. For weeks they were treated thus, 
then by the hand of God I was purified. 
32 



L'Immortel 

The fever was sent me. I was 
stricken at the darkest moment of my 
life, should I live a thousand years. 
That day the second message was sent 
my father, and now I must go, the au- 
thorities had so decreed. My father 
was coming to my aid, this was made 
known to me at the evening hour when 
I should have been in the chapel. The 
proctor was making his rounds and 
found me in a small room where I was 
gambling with one other. Plain in 
view the stakes were on the table, my 
last shilling of bread money, the other a 
bright bit of steel, holding four life 
taking missiles, two for each. This 
we had agreed upon, but which should 
be the first to use it? Then came the 
thought of playing for the privilege of 
being the first to perform the sinful, 
33 



My Dream Life 

cowardly act of taking one's own life. 
The door had opened, the proctor saw 
and gave the alarm, though not before 
telling me my father was due to arrive 
that very hour. I had been expelled 
as unfit to longer abide within the semi- 
nary walls. The words echoed about 
the room 'father coming, your father 
coming' and the while my eyes were 
glued to the bit of steel on the table, and 
a voice sounded in my ears saying: 

"Yes, look, look at the life taking 
thing and remember that which you were 
about to do. Coward thou art to have 
contemplated such a deed. Were you 
not satisfied with the depth you have 
gone, must you, too, part with your 
soul? Your heart answers not, but 
you will be saved for your father's sake. 
You shall be purified as his reward. 
34 



L'Immortel 

His life has earned the soul of his 
child." 

The voice rang loudly in my ear. 
Then came another, it had spoken my 
name. My eyes sought the door whence 
it came, and on the threshold beheld 
my father, standing beautifully pale 
and tender looking, with outstretched 
arms to me, his son, — his disgrace. 

It was then the Father of all took 
pity on the sinful one. My heart sent 
a torrent of blood to the brain; I fell 
forward but the outstretched arms of a 
devoted father caught his erring son. 

For days and nights it was thought 
my life was slipping away, but the 
voice in my heart had remained and 
guided me back to life, a life with 
which to repay, — a ransom for three 
wasted years. 

35 



My Dream Life 

From the hour I fell into my father's 
arms the influence of the voice has ever 
been with me, in sleep, in wakefulness, 
but more earnest still while I was de- 
lirious. And now in my full reason I 
can but believe it to have been a vision 
of the Immortal Truth, sent to guide 
me to a life everlasting. The first 
night it spoke thus: 




"John Montague, you have sinned, 
sinned deeply, for which you must 
suffer, as suffering alone will cleanse the 
body, purify the soul, to a whiteness 
that it may stand in the light of Heaven, 
with the hope of redemption. Thus 

36 



L'lmmortel 

I have come to lead you through the 
path of right, to the path of life." 

"But where" I asked, "how far?" 
And the words sounded afar to my ear, 
though I was conscious of my father's 
face, he was bending over me, and near 
the bed was another, with eyes like 
burning coals. They sought mine,— 
those burning eyes, — and held my gaze, 
while they pierced and flashed into my 
very brain. I thought to drop my eye 
lids, but they would not close, and the 
liery ones scorched my brain. How 
long I cannot say: hours perhaps, or 
more likely a few seconds. Who can 
tell? 

"Come you blighted one, come in 
My footsteps." 

At last I was released. As the voice 
came I saw, I knew the eyes belonged 
37 



My Dream Life 

to the voice and I could see the lips 
move. The eyes shed a light over the 
face, the pale delicate face of a young 
man of my own age. This I could see, 
but with the feeling that a great differ- 
ence lay between us. k 'Who are you, 
tell me your name?" I called out, with 
the thought that someone had slipped 
into the room to torment me, and he 
replied : 

"Say to your white-haired father, say 
this: ' Give me the name of Him who will 
lead me through the path of right.' He 
can tell, he dwells in my mansion." 

And I said: "Father, my father, give 
me the name of Him who will lead me 
through the path of right." 

The answer came, but not until my 
father had dropped to his knees and 
prayed thus: 

38 



L'Immortel 

"Oh I thank you my Heavenly 
Father, the good, the great Lord God. 
You have saved my child. You have 
redeemed his soul. Blessed be Thy 
name forever upon his lips. Oh my 
Lord God, the Savior of man, Amen." 

With the beginning of the prayer, 
with the speaking of the name, the 
young man with the burning eyes, had 
moved and stood at my father's back, 
resting his two hands upon father's 
head; but his eyes never for the space of 
a breath left my own. 

My father's words sounded and re- 
sounded through the room long after he 
ceased to speak. It was thus he 
planted the name in my heart, while 
still kneeling he pressed his lips to 
mine, with these words between our 
flesh: 

39 



My Dream Life 

"My son, give yourself to the dear 
Lord God. He alone can lead you 
through the path of right, remember the 
name, God." 

With these words came a great glow of 
vapory white light, covering all, until 
every object in the room seemed to 
take the form of angels floating about. 
And the young man, He too was 
changed, or had I not seen him fully? 
In the light I could clearly see his long 
waving brown hair, and slender limbs 
beneath the soft white robe he wore. 
The robe of a priest, I thought; and 
thinking too that his feet could not be 
touching the floor. 

While I was pondering thus, waves of 

music came within my hearing. Wave 

after wave, and nearer they came, until 

I could discern the different instru- 

40 



L'Immortel 

ments. Clearly there were flutes and 
lutes weaving their sweet sounds with 
those of cymbals and silver trumpets, 
all. 

If the others heard I did not know, 
I did not think, I was too intent lis- 
tening to the wonderous music, drawing 
so near as to be at the very threshold, 
yes, at our threshold, and next into the 
very room in which I lay. But how 
entered it? Ah! I see, the walls had 
been removed. I could see out, and 
down the long, high-vaulted corridors, 
through each gray arch, and beyond to 
the willow green, where the blue sky 
drops over the stone wall. I recog- 
nized all, the enchanting vista, and was 
wondering why I had not thought more 
of the beauties during the three years, 
while passing to and fro daily. 
41 



My Dream Life 

Then my thoughts were again turned 
to the music. It was filling the space. 
A room no longer, for overhead were 
the dark blue heavens with their 
myriad sparkling stars. And a cres- 
cent moon hung directly above my bed. 

The white vapor light had turned a 
pale amethyst hue; and the objects, they 
too had changed, changed to many num- 
bered large white doves. Human-look- 
ing doves, with wings of long waving 
feathers. Music making wings as they 
soared upward and again down, then in 
circles over and about me, waving 
out the celestial music in their flights. 
And all the while, each way I looked, 
the burning eyes were upon me. I real- 
ized too that all I was seeing must be 
through these eyes, and never once had 
I been able to look beyond. 

42 



L'Immortel 

The young man, or priest, I had not 
decided which, and my father, stood 
side by side. My father I could see 
was holding, clasping ,to his breast, 
the small Holy Book he was never with- 
out. Ah, the book, the little worn 
book, I knew it. I had read it through 
once, twice, yes many times with my 
father when a child. I a child! when? 
This I called aloud, and the young man 
moved nearer, he and father, and the 
voice answered: 

" Three short years ago you were 
pure of heart, thus a child, John Mon- 
tague, and from the child you have tried 
to draw the soul. Do you recall your 
sins? Will you repent for your father's 
love? for the One who died for you? 
your Savior, your God." 

For God, yes, I am ready. God will 
43 



My Dream Life 

lead me through the path of right, this 
my father says, was my answer. 

Oh how can I tell, how can I find 
words to relate, that which followed! 
But I must endeavor. 

With the name on the air, the ame- 
thyst light faded away like a sunset 
cloud, and a burst of gold sprung from 
above and beyond, enveloping all in 
clouds of amber, — amber that sent forth 
rays of light, brilliant, beautiful, dull- 
ing all else. The moon, I thought, 
and looking up to where the crescent 
had hung, when lo! the moon too, had 
vanished. The light, the amber light, 
came from a great cross of gold and 
upon it, upon the cross with out- 
stretched arms and bleeding feet, was 
the One of the burning eyes. 

I knew then, I knew the name of the 
44 



Limmortel 

young man of the burning eyes, — the 
blessed Jesus Christ, and I must look, 
see Him upon the cross: thus to purify 
my soul. And my soul cried out: 
"Come, Oh my Lord God, come take 
me, lead me through the path of right 
to the path of life everlasting." 

The amber grew brighter, the cross 
swayed, then began to ascend, going up, 
up still higher, until it reached, then 
passed through the sky and beyond the 
stars. With the passing of the cross 
the heavens glowed amber, purple, 
and gray and rose, — like unto the after- 
glow of a midsummer sun, and the 
music grew fainter and farther away 
as it followed the cross, leaving a milky 
way through the blue. 

Again my soul cried aloud: "Why, 
oh why did you not take me? Let me 
45 



My Dream Life 

die as you, dear Lord, or let me live and 
serve my God." 

I was spell-bound, and trembling, and 
thinking would it be death or life. Hesi- 
tatingly I endeavored to arise, but some 
invincible force held me down. What? 
I was wondering, when the voice came, 
the eyes had never gone, I was startled, 
thrilled, by an indefinable instinct that 
I would be saved. By a sudden impulse 
I began to pray, pray for forgiveness, 
forgiveness and life to repent. Lost in a 
deep reverie of prayer, a feeling of peace 
and joy came over me, as the music 
returned in a glory of sounds. And the 
Young Man, too, as first I had seen him, 
stood at my side; and the voice said: 

"Poor humanity, in God's pity I 
have come to lead you forth to life. 
You are to live, though you will suffer, 
46 



L'Immortel 

suffer to repent. Arise my son, and 
follow ever so closely in my footsteps. 
Arise now, it is thy day." 

I felt myself released. I arose, stood 
quite near Him, but a vast space seemed 
to be between us. He moved, moved 
backward, with his step I too, ad- 
vanced. Then lo! with that first step 
rang forth in loud, full, golden toned 
chorus Kyrie eleison! Kyrie eleison! 

We then moved more rapidly than 
at first, He ever facing me. I ad- 
vanced steadily as if drawn along by 
some magnetic power. We left the 
room and entered the corridor, here the 
music met us, surging, waving, the 
richest harmony among the vaulted 
arches. And from afar came a faint 
echo, as of crystal bells chiming the 
Ave Marie from a marble campanile. 
47 



My Dream Life 

At each step onward I gained courage, 
strength, a firmness, until every doubt 
and fear had fled. And still the silvery 
music; and still the angel chorus. He 
led me to the chapel, then on to the 
altar rail, and I could see the amber 
rays from the richly tinted glass, drop- 
ping jewel-like upon the altar lace. 
Then the tinkling of a silver bell changed 
my thoughts; I fell upon my knees 
and raised my head. Before me, in 
flowing white raiment, stood Christ, as 
I had seen Him upon the cross of gold. 
He raised one slender hand above my 
head; from the other I was to partake 
of His life. At the same moment the 
amber light blazed in undiminished 
brilliancy. A shimmering aureole of 
golden radiance encircled the head, 
while the light enveloped the figure 
48 



L'Immortel 

like wreaths of woven sunbeams. An 
agony of shame fell upon me. I cried 
aloud "Oh deeply and bitterly I repent, 
dear Lord. I seek, I implore Thy 
forgiveness. I will bow to Thy will. 
Forgive, forgive I pray Thee, my 
Savior." 
And the voice of Christ came: 
"Walk in my footsteps, they will 
lead you through the path of right to 
life. Read My Word, doubt it never. 
You will then gain thy forgiveness and 
life everlasting. Now arise, and be- 
hold the dawn of thy new life." 

Again the silvery music and the angel 
chorus, the Young Man too, and again 
I was led over the way whence we had 
come. I felt myself falling, dropping 
upon the bed, and at the side my father 
was still kneeling, praying, and his 
49 



My Dream Life 

voice had a tremor of pain in it. Then 
I called to him "Weep no longer, my 
father, I am still your child. I re- 
pent, pray for me, pray with me, my 
father." And while we prayed the white 
doves, the celestial music, all, were 
wafted away amid clouds of amber 
light, leaving the burning eyes within 
my soul. 
Candlemas 
1911 




The Hillside Shrine 




The Hillside Shrine 




OR days together, a fair 
dark eyed girl, walked 
the sweet-scented paths, 
through her garden of 
pleasure: girl and gar- 
den wrapped in sun- 
shine. So, thought she, was all the 
world. But alas, one day Pleasure led 
her to the far away path circling the 
garden, and from there she wandered 
afar, until at last a day dawned dark 
53 



My Dream Lite 

for the blighted one, and she then 
cried aloud: "I am forsaken. Pleas- 
ure and my lover, both so dear to 
me, and both have gone, gone, my 
betrayers, and they still will walk the 
sunny paths while I must hide my 
sorrow. As for me there is no Hope, 
and Faith too, has fled. Still there re- 
mains Charity, but upon her I will not 
let my heart dwell, for Charity, it is my 
belief, will turn from one stripped to the 
very soul of Faith, the bread of life." 

The girl had fallen by the roadside, 
amid the myrtle and sweet wild shrubs 
of the hills, where too, the sound of 
rushing, bubbling waters could be heard, 
coming from just beyond. 

Her silken garments were frayed and 
soiled, and her heavy dark hair had 
loosened, and lay like a mourning 
54 



The Hillside Shrine 

mantle about her shoulders and arms. 
Her thin oval face shown white, as if 
carved in ivory, — whitened by despair. 
And again she cried aloud, to this end: 

"Ah! I hear water, a lagoon there 
must be nearby. Water, I will find this, 
and drop myself beneath it. This will 
hide me from the world. Once, but 
it now seems long ago, I would have 
prayed, though not now, as I have 
lost all, Faith and Hope, and there is 
no Charity for me. Yes, I will hasten, 
find the water, and hide me in its 
depths." 

The girl arose weak and trembling, 
she grew faint, then swayed, and would 
have fallen, but by instinct put out her 
hand, without knowing, without having 
seen, the hillside shrine by which she 
had fallen. The shrine with its cross 
55 



My Dream Life 

and image of the Blessed Mother, 
clasping her Holy Infant to her breast. 
This the girl now beheld, with its pure 
marble gleaming white beneath green 
boughs, and here and there, where the 
sun could find an opening, it was shin- 
ing through and dropping like stars 
about the little Christ Child. 

The girl's hand had grasped one wee 
foot that rested on the mother's arm. 
The cold of the marble sent a chill 
through her body. She raised her eyes, 
and beheld the shrine, but this time her 
cry was soft and plaintive: 

"Oh, it was here they brought you, 
and I never knew, would never again 
have seen you my babe, my precious 
one, my life. And the hand of my 
lover, thy father, my little babe, wrought 
this shrine. 

56 



The Hillside Shrine 

Listen, little babe, and I will tell you 
how, each day, while your father worked, 
he would cast aside chisel and hammer, 
that he might caress us, and praise our 
beauty. Then the next moment he 
would again be sending small chips from 
the block of glistening marble. 'His 
masterpiece,' he said it should be, and 
his love for us would ever live in the 
marble. And all the days he would sing 
sweet love songs to me, and bring- 
bright flowerets to you, my babe. Oh 
my babe, and now you lay cold as the 
marble, in your tomb, and I, your 
mother, am forsaken by all, all but the 
sweet memory of you, and you my babe 
have called me back to life. And now 
that I have again looked in your sweet 
eyes I cannot hide beneath the waters, 
as then I could not meet thee, little 
57 



My Dream Life 

one, on the other side. So, I must 
struggle to find the right path for the 
very love of you. But where can I go, 
to whom can I turn? I am alone, alone 
in this vast world." 

"Nay, nay, it is not so, I am here at 
your side. Look girl, I am an old 
friend of your world." 

The girl, in surprise at a voice so near, 
turned, and lo! at her side beheld, as 
she believed, a gay, dashing cavalier 
in bright attire, with waving plumes of 
scarlet in his broad velvet hat. And 
this is what she said: 

"You sir! why, I know you not, or 
whence you come, and do you not see 
I am unhappy and forlorn?" 

"Yes, I heard you lamenting, and for 
that reason I am at your side to take 
you with me, I will be your lover, I 
58 



The Hillside Shrine 

will deck you in fine linen and purple, 
and jewels shall bind your hair, and be 
clasped about your fair neck and arms. 
But you must come at once and quickly : 
do you not see dark clouds are gather- 
ing?" 

While speaking he had caught a fold 
of the girl's gown, and at the same 
moment drew from beneath his long 
scarlet velvet cloak, a strangely wrought 
casket, rilled with sparkling gems. At 
sight of these the girl trembled, and 
for a moment her eyes rested upon the 
gold and precious stones. She seemed 
to falter, and the tempter drew nearer, 
pushing the casket against her hand. 
With the contact a spark flashed. 
The girl felt the shock, and in fear 
pressed closer to the shrine, and again 
her eyes sought those of her marble 
59 



My Dream Life 

babe, whose little outstretched arms 
seemed to be offering shelter to her, 
his lonely mother, and again she cried 
aloud, and thus: 

" Go sir, I care not for your offerings. 
Still, where can I go but with you?" 

"Yes, where can you go, girl, and be 
happy. You are faded and in rags, 
where do you hope to find another 
lover to care for you? Can you not 
see I am the only one? But hist! you 
come, I will take you in my arms and 
fly from here, come." 

As he spoke a heavy cloud dropped 
over the sun, and loud peals of thunder 
rolled above their heads, while a thick 
blackness settled over all. And a rush- 
ing of wind came down the hillside, 
swaying and bending the trees, and 
with the cracking and falling away of 
60 



The Hillside Shrine 

their tender branches, dark, ill-omen 
night birds flew out with their heinous 
cries. They circled in the air but an 
instant, then, with drooping wings flut- 
tered downward until they rested at the 
tempter's feet. 

The girl in the greatest terror, pressed 
still closer to the marble, until her 
cheek laid against that of her babe. 
And she entwined her arms so closely 
about the little body that the marble 
gathered a warmth from her, which 
gave it a feeling of flesh, this thought 
flashed in her mind, and a new joy 
entered her heart. Thus she called out 
in the darkness: 

"Go whoever thou art, take your 

gems, I hold the rarest of all here in 

my arms. My babe still lives, and for 

him I will suffer, even perish; but from 

61 



My Dream Life 

now till death I will guide my steps 
until I reach the place where the angels 
have taken him, then I will kneel to the 
precious one." 

The cry had scarcely left her lips 
when the sun burst forth, sending out 
long rays of light, these quickly melted 
the darkness, and swept the storm 
clouds away. 

The light was dazzling, and the girl 
with a feeling of awe turned to where 
the tempter had stood. He was no 
longer at her side, gone, gone she 
thought. But as her eyes became accus- 
tomed to the light, she saw he was bend- 
ing low to the earth and creeping away 
towards a deep ravine whence the sound 
of rushing waters came. Then to the 
right she turned, and there beheld, 
coming towards her, five maidens, all 
62 



The Hillside Shrine 

tall, slender, beautiful; clothed in soft 
white, trailing robes, with long, white, 
cloud-like veils fitted to their heads 
beneath wreaths of sweet alyssum. The 
long ends of their veils were waving 
liken to angel wings half folded. And 
the sunbeams gathered in the folds, 
shedding a golden light over all. 

Each maiden carried in her right 
hand the symbol of her name, and lo! 
the ground on all sides, and the path 
they trod, suddenly became whitened 
with the same holy blossoms of which 
their wreaths were woven. 

Slowly, silently, they glided, until 
they reached the shrine. There they 
paused at the side of the cross, and held 
out their symbols to the forlorn girl. 

"Who are you? You are different 
from any I have ever known. Still, 

63 



My Dream Life 

you are all living women as I, but I feel 
that I could not touch a fold of your 
robe. Tell me quickly, have you come 
to taunt me with my rags and despair?" 

This the girl asked in trembling tones, 
as she pressed even closer to her marble 
babe. And the maidens replied: 

"Oh, we pray you not to have such 
sorrowful thoughts. You are our sister, 
we heard your cries and we have come. 
It is our work to shelter our forlorn 
sisters. It was not far; our house of 
mercy stands on the crest of the hill. 
We knew where to find you, as all 
stop when they reach the shrine." 

"Your house of Mercy? Do I hear 
aright, will you be merciful to a fallen 
girl? one who until a moment ago had 
lost all faith and hope, and believed 
not in the world's charity to one who 
64 



The Hillside Shrine 

had sinned, sinned for the love of a 
man." 

"Yea, yea, sister, it is the pure of 
heart whom we seek and give our 
greatest care. And now sister, will you 
not come nearer? even stand in the 
sun's rays that we may see each other 
clearly. And we will prove the truth 
of our mission, we will give you our 
names, they shall pass your lips, and 
fill your heart to overflowing with a 
love that will give you new life. And 
you, sister, you can give your name 
and make known your trouble, or you 
can keep all a secret in your heart; 
it is the privilege we grant, we ask 
naught of the sorrowing ones." 

The girl stepped forth in the sun's 
path. She had grown paler, until she 
was white as the marble mother. Too, 
65 



My Dream Life 

a great peace had settled on her deli- 
cate features, as she left the side of her 
marble babe, and stood in the light 
facing the Maidens. At the same mo- 
ment a light gust of air caught some 
of the fragile white blossoms from the 
path, carrying them up in a little 
twirling shower, letting them fall like 
snowrlakes over the marble mother and 
child; and one wee spray had dropped 
and remained in the babe's hand, as 
an offering to the living mother. 

The maidens looked eanestly at the 
girl, and a sadness came into their eyes 
as they moved nearer, and one spoke in 
a gentle voice, saying: 

"You poor blighted child, we clearly 

see your features in this marble mother, 

and the little Christ Child, he, too, has 

looked with your eyes upon the poor 

66 



The Hillside Shrine 

wanderers who have stopped here to 
pray. But where is the child, surely 
you have not deserted him? We will 
love him; we will care for both." 

And the girl said sadly: 

"Oh do not pierce my heart. I have 
wept long days for my little dead babe. 
Dead in the same month I held him in 
my arms for this marble. His father 
praised my beauty, and fondled his son, 
until the masterpiece, as he called the 
shrine, was finished. It was carried 
away. The next day the atelier was 
dark and cold, my babe lay dead. I 
was alone, deserted, save by poverty 
and death. And you, who call your- 
selves my sisters, you now have my 
secret. To you I plead, beseech your 
love, for here against this cold marble 
my heart has warmed. I have regained 
67 



My Dream Life 

that which is most precious, — Faith and 
Hope." 

And the maidens closed about the 
girl, and the first maiden said: 

"And you, sister, you will be sacred 
to us, your sins forgotten, the shrine 
has purified the body, your soul was 
never tarnished. But before we enter 
the home you must learn our names. 
I will be the first to ask you to look 
upon my symbol. I will set it against 
your heart, then you can easily speak 
my name." And she kissed the cross 
in her hand, then placed it against the 
girl's breast. 

"Oh the cross, the symbol of Faith. 
Faith then is your name." 

"Yea, and Faith I will plant in your 
heart, that you may never more wander 
from the path of right." 
68 



The Hillside Shrine 

And the second maiden did likewise, 
with her silver anchor, and the girl 
said: 

"The Anchor of Hope. Ah, I know 
thy name is 'Hope.' " 

"Yea, and I will plant Hope in your 
heart, that you may be lifted up and 
never again falter." 

Then came the third maiden, Charity, 
with her calm white face, and she held 
to the girl's lips a Bleeding Heart, of 
whitened silver. 

But from Charity the girl sought to 
shield her face, while she cried out in 
shame : 

"Thou art Charity, and you come to 
me? And you were the first I de- 
nounced, denounced bitterly, and cast 
away." 

"Yea, Charity I am called, and 



My Dream Life 

Charity forgives, covers faults, that 
goodness may shine forth clearly. And 
you, poor girl, I will clothe in fullness, 
I will wrap about you my mantle, 
then soon you will become strong in 
the right, but Repentance must be thy 
name." 

And the girl moaned, and tears fell 
from beneath her eyelids. 

"And my name, said the fourth 
maiden, is Virtue, and I will share 
with you my Lilies. Hold them ever 
near, they will ward off Temptation." 

But the fifth Maiden stepped from 
the circle, and gently clasped in her 
own, the girl's delicate hands. And 
the girl raised her eyes to the face of 
stern, pale Duty, standing silently be- 
side her, and a cry left the girl's lips. 
Then Duty spoke: 

70 



The Hillside Shrine 

"Yea, girl, it is thus with all, my 
name is quickly discerned, it is printed 
upon my face. But I will plant love 
in your heart. I will keep your hand 
in mine. I will ever lead you in my 
path. Yea, Duty will give unto her 
followers a blessed joy; a great happi- 
ness; religion; duty to God; life eternal. 
Yea, all this you will gather as you 
tread my path." 

At last the girl looked up to the blue 
sky. Then through the still air came 
little drops of water, falling, falling. 
Softly they fluttered down, and dropped 
upon the girl's head. 

Then Faith stepped from the circle, 
and spoke: 

"Ah, sisters, these little drops are 
from the heavens, sent as a message. 
They have fallen upon her head, and 
71 



My Dream Life 

too, upon the cross. It is her baptism, 
and we, sisters, are the sponsors. And 
we now name this poor girl Repentance." 

And the girl looked and wondered, 
for she had not thought of God in so 
long a time. Faith quickly under- 
stood the look, and knew that dark fear 
was in the girl's heart. Thus again she 
spoke : 

" Repentance, my sister, cast all fear 
from you. You are now to go with us. 
You will be cherished and guided: be 
one of us in the house of our mother 
Mercy. And even now she awaits your 
coming, and we will take you to her 
fold. But first we will say our evening 
prayer at the foot of the shrine, as from 
now the little marble Christ Child will 
be even more sacred to us. And you 
the mother, kneel, and learn again to 
72 



The Hillside Shrine 

pray. And while you pray, remember 
your living babe represented the Holy 
Infant of Bethlehem. Yea, ever more, 
let the memory of this be thy guidance, 
thy guardian angel." 

Their prayers were softly chanted ; the 
evening air wafted them to the heavens. 
Then the maidens arose, Faith and 
Hope, Charity and Virtue, and in their 
steps pale Duty led Repentance by the 
hand. 

A light radiated about the girl, her 
eyes were dark, and clear, and bright. 
She stood erect: the old, old weariness 
was gone. 

Slowly, gently, Repentance was led 
to the winding path on the hillside, 
then up, up, the white stepping-stones 
between the hedge rows of lavender and 
myrrh, until the summit was reached. 
73 



My Dream Life 

Tho' midway they had paused to look 
upon the shrine; but the sunset glow 
had veiled its beauty in an opalescent 
light. 

Then onward, Faith led the sister 
band, onward to the very portal, and 
there in the open Mercy stood, to receive 
the blighted one. 

Faith and Hope, Charity and Virtue, 
awaited on either side, while Duty led 
Repentance to Mercy's tender care, 
and Mercy, in pity, lifted the long ends 
of her veil, and folded them about 
the girl's head as they entered the 
shelter. 

For them the day was done, and with 
the closing of the heavy doors the mis- 
sion bells swung out and in their stone 
arches, sending forth through the calm 
of twilight the vesper message. Then 
74 



The Hillside Shrine 

the sweet bells had gone to sleep, leav- 
ing the evening star to keep vigil over 
the hillside shrine. 
Bel- Air 
Chris tmastide 
1912 




Legend of the Guiding Oak 





Legend of the Guiding Oak 

N the garden on our grand- 
father's plantation, once 
stood a very magnificent 
oak, so tall, that one going 
through the country could 
see it for many miles 
away. For generations the country 
people all around had used it to direct 
strangers, or in counting mile marks. 
Thus it had been known for years and 
years by the mystic name, as mysti- 
cally given — The Guiding Oak. 
79 



My Dream Life 

Its branches were many numbered, 
thick and far reaching, spreading out 
to such a degree as to make a dense 
shade over the greater part of the gar- 
den plat. Around its trunk a broad 
seat of cypress had been made, in the 
long ago, so long that it had become a 
soft silvery gray in color, and had grown 
so glossy, and smooth to the touch that 
one loves to sit on it and dream of the 
many little children who had played 
there in the shade, — their baby hands 
helping to give the polish that we ad- 
mire today. 

In my thoughts I picture all great and 
beautiful trees as having souls as we: 
with minds to gather in the rights and 
wrongs done them, and to me it is as 
cruel to fell one as to strike down a human 
being. Yet be this as it may, the Guid- 
80 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

ing Oak has given evidence of being, as 
I say, with a heart filled with Faith, 
Hope, and Charity; and in the same 
heart a little corner filled with worldly 
thoughts, such as a vanity for its own 
beauty, its strength, and above all its 
value to mankind. 

Truth to tell, our grandmother was a 
romancer, still this legend was found in 
her diary, with notes on the flyleaf 
pleading with all who might read to 
believe as she, in the truth, the strength, 
and the immortality of her beloved tree. 




My Dream Life 

THE LEGEND 

THE fifteenth of June, and I am ten 
years old today. I was awakened 
early, even before the sun had time to 
dry the dewdrops or the white fog to 
float away. Awakened by old Uncle 
Henry, and my sweet birds which nest in 
the Guiding Oak. Uncle Henry, dear old 
man, had come to give me greetings and 
to bring a great bunch of Lilies of the 
Valley, — my birthday flower. So I hast- 
ily left my bed and opened wide the 
casements as he stood just beneath. 
I knew he would be there as every 
year since I can remember, — with the 
lilies tied to the end of a long willow 
cane that I could easily reach and 
untie. 

"Good morning, Uncle Henry," I 

82 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

called, while taking in my flowerets, - 
"how is Mammy this sweet summer 
morning?" 

" Sprightly, right sprightly for an ole 
'oman, bu' taint of mammy Ise a- 
thinkin', its about my honey chile. 
Now how is you little Miss? You is 
ten years ole now an' most a young 
lady, I specs you will soon be a-having 
beaux. But law me, Ise gwing fo' I 
hears Marsa callin', so mornin' honey 
chile, hurry up fo' yo' Pa is got you 
some thin' pretty." 

"All right so I will, and come down at 
once." And this I did, to find my father 
awaiting me. He was sitting on the 
broad seat under my tree, with the 
mocking birds and robbins tripping all 
about. 

First I had my morning kiss,— then 
83 



My Dream Life 

came my birthday gift, and it was you, 
my pretty book, the diary which I had 
seen and asked my father to give me 
today. And ah me! how pretty is 
your soft brown morocco cover with 
its delicate tracings of gold. Then too 
your sweet rose-tinted leaves, with 
their gold edges I love so much and 
upon you I mean to write my most 
secret, my best and dearest thoughts. 
I will go back to the days I first re- 
member; I will even go back to my tea 
party days, — served under the Guiding 
Oak. 

Ah! that is it, I will tell you our 
secret, though to none but you will I 
tell that my tree can see, can hear, and 
talk. But for its counsels I would have 
been a naughty child a-many times, and 
now, now I love and obey its teachings 
84 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

and I am sure they are all for my 
good. 

Yes, I shall write down all my life 
with you, my dear tree, that when I 
am old, old and forgotten, you may 
live in the thoughts of others. 

This very day I will begin by writing 
of the first time you spoke to me. Ah 
yes! 'tis fitting that your first pages 
should hold the memory of that sad, sad 
day, the day my precious Mother was 
carried past you, down the garden walk, 
and left over there in the family lot: 
now more than six years ago. And still 
I can feel, and hear the thump, thump, of 
the blighted acorns which you let drop, 
like so many tears, as we passed beneath 
your boughs. Some you let fall upon 
the casket, and there they lay hidden 
amid the lilies, and forget-me-nots 
85 



My Dream Life 

which my dear father had placed upon 
the top to cover its cruel black. And 
some, I remember at least three, you 
let come thumping down upon my 
head. I was weeping and my father 
was leading me by the hand, dear 
father, you too were shedding tears of 
sorrow; but with the thumps of the 
acorns we both looked up, up to your 
topmost tip that seemed to little me 
must surely touch the blue sky. And 
as I lowered my head one acorn slipped 
from beneath the tangles of my curls, 
that one I caught and kept in my hand. 
It was thus I was consoled, I wept no 
more that day. You had let the little 
saucer slip from the cup of your tear- 
drop, and this I would replace, then take 
from, all through the long sad day ; it 
amused me, it took my thoughts from 
86 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

my mother, — it was the first acorn I had 
ever noticed. 

Then had come the sunset hour, and 
the soft twilight that followed. The 
hour when my father and mother were 
wont to sit beneath you on the broad 
seat. Ah me! that night we two were 
alone; I grew tired, then sleepy, Mammy 
came and wanted to take me, to put 
me to bed but I would not leave my 
father's arms so he pillowed my head 
on his shoulder and held me caressingly 
against his breast, my dear father, and 
he too heard my little prayer, then I 
fell asleep while his tears were fast 
falling upon my face. 

I still held tightly in my baby hand 

your teardrop, my dear tree, and my 

curls touched the rough bark that 

covers your truly great heart, and it 

87 



My Dream Life 

must have been then you found the 
way to make me understand your lan- 
guage, when you said: 

"Weep not little child, weep not for 
the dear mother, she still lives, she will 
be with you each day, each night, 
always with you as long as you are 
good, good and true; but you must 
never be false, either to yourself or 
others, — that alone will keep her from 
you. The dear God would then keep 
her in the heavens, she could not come 
to you. Thus as long as you love your 
mother be true, be gentle, be forbear- 
ing, and come to me each day: bring 
your sorrows, bring your joys, tell all 
to me, me the Guiding Oak, here in 
your father's garden. I will speak to 
you, I will be your Mother, she will 
come and live in me as long as you are 
88 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

good and true. Now little child sleep, 
sleep softly, sleep sweetly, little mother- 
less child." 

Now my pretty book do you not feel 
grateful to be entrusted with my secret? 
But wait you, you have not heard one- 
hundredth part, now listen. 

The next morning I awakened to 
find mammy and my father bending 
over my little bed, also that I still held 
the acorn in a tight grasp, and do you 
know I have it still, — the one that fell 
from my curls on that sad day. I will 
never part with it, I wear it sewed in a 
little silken bag, around my neck. 
But it has been great trouble to keep it 
safe from mammy, and at times I have 
been obliged to entreat my father to 
speak in order to keep my treasure, 
until now I am allowed to do as I 
89 



My Dream Life 

please — I am ten years of age, and 
Uncle Henry says I will soon be a young 
lady; but that is naught, sweet book, 
and I know you would much rather be 
told my secret. 

Ah! tree, dear tree you were indeed a 
mother that next day. I remember 
how I ran down the garden walk, with 
the box on either side, so tall and thick 
that I could not see other than ahead or 
up, up to the sky. But the lilies stood 
in groups at the end, beyond you my 
dear tree. The tall white lilies that we 
all love so well, you are the children of 
the ones my mother planted when she 
first came here a young and beautiful 
bride; I know as my father has told me 
many times of her lovely thoughts and 
ways. 

But of that next day. I reached you, 
90 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

O tree, I climbed to the seat, then 
waited, waited for my mother to come, 
as I believed you meant she would. I 
waited, it seemed a long, long time, 
then I began to weep, the tears blinded 
me, I must wipe my eyes, this I did with 
the frill that trimmed my apron. In 
doing this the acorn which I had with 
me rubbed against my cheek; that 
turned my thoughts, I began to play 
with it, to look about. Then low and 
behold! there at my very feet were 
acorns many numbered, that had fallen 
and lay strewn through the soft grass 
and clover blossoms. 

I was on my feet at once, but with the 
thought not to lose my one, the precious 
one, I twisted and tied it in a corner of 
my apron, then straightway began to 
gather up all others I could find, until 
91 



My Dream Life 

I had a great heap. This gave me 
much pleasure and kept me from be- 
coming lonesome for a long time. At 
last I grew tired, so again thought of 
my mother, and again I wept. This 
time I sat upon the ground, near to 
your big arm which comes up through 
the earth, I laid my head upon it, the 
tears fell too upon your arm, dear 
tree, — then you spoke, you my mother, 
and you said: 

"Up, up, little child, you should not 
weep, look about you, look at the sun- 
shine, look at the flowers: God's dear 
little children they are and you, you too, 
belong to him. But you must not weep, 
you must not ask for that which He has 
taken; that which He does not give. 

"Ah! dear little child, look at the 
birds, they too belong to Him, they 
92 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

are happy, they are joyous, though 
they have but what He gives, — and they 
sing the live long day. 

"Now up little child, your mother is 
with you, and she says: 

"Run to the house Mary Elizabeth, 
run and ask mammy sweetly to bring 
out your little pewter dishes, and bread 
nicely spread with the sweet butter she 
churned before you opened your eyes 
this morning, and this day she may add 
a thin sprinkling of sugar to appease 
you, my baby. Tell her to bring all 
here, with a jug of milk, and here you 
can have a party for yourself and 
dollies. O yes, you must also have your 
dollies, they will be your guests, they will 
keep you company. Now run Mary 
Elizabeth, I your mother will await you 
here, here on the bench and will help 
93 



My Dream Life 

you with your party; but unless you are 
happy I cannot remain." 

The voice I heard was distinctly my 
mother's, though it came from the tree 
arm beneath my head. I was at first 
startled, I sat upright and looked about, 
expecting to see my mother, no one was 
in sight, my little heart began to feel a 
fear. Then again the voice came, but 
this time from the acorn, tied as it was 
in my apron. 

"Up, I say, Mary Elizabeth, up my 
baby and be merry and gay, for if you 
rebel, if you resist the will of your 
Heavenly Father, I cannot come to you, 
my precious baby. Now I will kiss you 
that you may know I am with you, 
little one." 

Then what think you, my sweet book, 
I awaited my mother's kiss,— instead 
94 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

came a wee bit of an acorn from over 
my head, I heard it dropping, I looked 
up, to catch it on my lips! My mother 
in the tree had sent down the kiss to me. 
Ah yes it's true, and that kiss too I 
have in safe keeping with the other one 
that fell on my saddest day. 




Thus I spent my baby days, with my 
mother tree to guide and love me and 
shield me from much. In mirth and 
sorrow, in health and pain, my dear 
mother has ever been with me. 

Long ago I controlled my temper; 

long ago ceased to resist the higher 

power, and longer ago learned that if I 

were in doubt I had but to press an acorn 

95 



My Dream Life 

to my lips, and my mother's voice came 
to point the way. 




ANOTHER fifteenth of June, again 
Uncle Henry and the flowerets and 
my singing birds. And live years too 
have passed since you first heard my 
secret, dear book, and much of the time 
you and I have travelled over the seas 
with my father, who thought thus to 
cast off his sorrow. 

But now I am older, I can give him a 
greater comfort; I, and our dear tree, 
as I ask my mother each day, to guide 
me in my care of him. And he is be- 

06 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

coming quite happy, he says it is my 
youth and beauty that is working the 
charm. My beauty! I think he only 
says that just to comfort me, I know I 
am without a spark of beauty as mammy 
tells me I am tall enough for a girl a 
year older than I, while she declares my 
eyes are like the white doe's we saw 
somewhere in an English park. And 
that my hair is neither brown nor 
gold, but just half of one and the other. 
Then my skin she says has not enough 
blood color, — it is too much like my 
mother's pure white, ivory-backed 
prayer book. But poor mammy! if 
I am warm and a pink spot comes on 
either cheek, then straightway I must 
go to my father, and he will feel my 
pulse to find if I have a fever. So you 
see, sweet book, I have my troubles, — 
97 



My Dream Life 

but never mind I also have much happi- 
ness, and today I am to have my first 
real party, a birthday party. 

And too I have a new secret, listen; 
you know Bobbie Lee, he is the tall 
youth with dark gray eyes, and hair 
like a chestnut hull. We take long 
rides, you must know, on the beautiful 
horses our fathers gave us last Christ- 
mas, — we had a lovely one yesterday 
eve. Ah! I feel the pink spot coming 
now, as it did when he whispered the 
sweet words of his love for me, that 
was last night, after our return. After 
supper we sat on the seat under my 
mother tree, he spoke low, so low I 
could but catch his words. But my 
dear mother also heard and let drop 
two kisses, one fell in his hand, one 
amidst my curls. 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

He had asked if I did or could love 
him — that brought the pink spot. I 
was afraid he had guessed, but how could 
he know that I had loved him always. 
Yes, since the day we were swinging 
double in my swing and I slipped and 
fell to the ground. Bobbie picked me 
up the best he could and we sat on 
mother's arm; I with my head on his 
shoulder, while he kissed and petted me 
until my fear had passed. And now 
last eve he asked if I did, if I could 
love him enough to some day be his 
wife. Ah! dear Bobbie, I love you 
more than I can tell! 

But now, sweet book, I must stop. 
My father calls: we are to go out to the 
garden to gather flowers, and to arrange 
the ground under my tree, as it is there 
we will receive our guests. Tomorrow 
99 



My Dream Life 

I will tell you of the party,— I will tell 
you everything, dear book. 




AH sweet book! where shall I begin, 
I have so much to tell this day. 
Father and Uncle Henry worked all 
morning clearing up the garden under 
the Guiding Oak, after I left you yes- 
terday. I helped some in arranging 
the bower and festoons of roses, but 
my work was little as our dear tree had 
much to say, and the voice of my 
mother came to me so often. Then 
100 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

again a wonderful something else I 
have to write on your leaves today, and 
too, none knows of it but myself. 

My father was intent on weeding out 
everything that had sprung up amidst 
the grass under the oak tree, he said: 

"I wish a smooth, velvety lawn to 
receive my guests on today, Henry, so 
gather in all the boys on the place and 
put them to work; then all can be fin- 
ished in good time." 

As father said this he looked over the 
ground, even looking under the broad 
seat, then exclaimed: 

"Why bless my heart, Henry, is not 
that a wild muscadine vine growing 
there under the seat?" 

"Ye' sah! it su' is dat. Ise righ' 
glad we's got him, 'case he's making 
fo' de Guiden Oak, — if he gits up da 
101 



My Dream Life 

its good-bye mister oak I tell you 
Masser." 

With this Uncle Henry picked up a 
spade as he meant to dig the vine up 
with its roots. I was sitting on the 
cypress seat at the moment, and then 
the voice came: 

"Mary Elizabeth," it said, "prevent 
them, they must not destroy the wild 
grape vine. Years and years ago, 
thoughtlessly, carelessly, I dropped the 
seed from which it has sprung, thought- 
lessly then, but I know now it was for a 
purpose, — as so, God wills all things. 
But year after year it has been trampled 
on or cut down, it could never get as 
far as the Guiding Oak. There, quick, 
stop the spade, quick Mary Elizabeth, 
I your mother wills it." 

I jumped up calling to Uncle Henry 
102 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

to desist, I wished the vine to remain. 
To this he objected, my father also, as 
he too wished to protect the oak. But 
I insisted that it should not be touched, 
at last I conquered, the vine still lives. 

And now listen sweet book. When 
the work was finished I returned to 
the seat, so did my mother, and she 
spoke thus, O so sweetly: 

"My child you did well, I wish the 
vine to live as I have already told you. 
For years it has tried to reach the oak; 
at last the root has stretched to the 
seat, thus the vine has found a place of 
protection from trampling feet. It 
must be allowed to climb up my body, 
it must I say, even if it be my death." 

Oh but dear tree! I could not live 
without you, my mother, I cried. Then 
listen my book, — the vine too spoke, 
103 



My Dream Life 

but in a voice I had never heard, a 
small, meek, plaintive voice, like a 
crying infant, thus: 

"O dear oak save me, save me, I 
am thin, I am weak, how could I hurt 
your sturdy body? I am alone, with 
kindred no nearer than the forest. I 
am lonesome, I want to cling to some- 
one; I have struggled, suffered pain and 
sorrow. I am broken in strength by 
the trampling of many. Each May 
Day I have crept up, up through our 
mother earth with the help of the sun- 
shine, and the sweet dews of the nights. 

"I am thankful to the Father of all 
for my life and the little sweetness that 
has come between the sufferings and 
wrongs felt in so many years. O dear 
oak help me, O I pray you help me 
great and beautiful tree." 

104 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

Then my tree spoke thus: 

"I am willing little vine, but you will 
first tell me how, as I see not how I, 
the greatest, the grandest, the most 
majestic tree in the land can possibly 
give help to a little bleached out, 
stunted wild vine of the woodland. Do 
you think of a way, little vine?" 

"O yes, beautiful tree, now that I am 
not to be utterly destroyed I shall have 
the opportunity of living out my life. 
My heart I have kept pure, my mind 
unsullied. It may be true I am bleached 
out and stunted in body as you say, 
but how could I be otherwise, with the 
years of struggling to escape being 
entirely crushed. But believe me dear 
tree, I have lived, lived a great and 
beautiful life as neither my heart nor 
mind is stunted, both have grown and 
105 



My Dream Life 

expanded, — with the crushing of my 
body. Only try me, good tree, and give 
me thy help by letting me reach out 
my little tender arms until I can cling 
to your lovely self, than I will creep, 
creep up and around your strong body, 
then on up till I reach your topmost 
tip. Ah! me, will I ever be so happy 
as to be up, up above men's trampling 
feet, up almost to the blue sky? And 
now dear oak, if I can start to climb 
with love and trust in my heart I will 
grow so rapidly that I will soon reach 
out and mingle with the lovely foliage 
on your arms. Only try me, I am 
faithful, I am helpful; great and 
beautiful tree can you not be chari- 
table?" 

"I will, yes I will although I heard 
the men say that if you were allowed to 
106 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

cling to me you would sap my life; 
detract from my beauty, then I would no 
longer be admired. They all worship 
me today, I am their treasure, their 
friends come to see me, to admire me. 
I was talked of across the seas and my 
great beauty told of. I must think! 
can I risk all to help a little ugly, wild 
thing?" 

"Ah well, great tree, so you will not 
be charitable. Perhaps you are right, 
I am poor and ugly now; but with your 
help, who can foretell, I may some 
day expand to a beautiful vine like my 
ancestors of the forest." 

"That is the trouble little vine, if I 
were certain you would not do that very 
thing I would say, 'Come, cling to me 
you will not be seen creeping under 
my large, heavy leaves.' Thus none 
107 



My Dream Life 

would take notice of you; truly little 
vine I want to give you help, but I love 
my beautiful self, and I love to hear 
people extol my value, I cannot help it, 
it seems my right." 

Now dear book I had listened to this 
in wonder as I had thought my mother 
everything that was good and pure, and 
somehow I felt grieved over the oak not 
being willing to help the wild vine; 
but the voice was not that of my 
mother, — in truth it was a strange voice. 
Then of a sudden I heard an acorn 
dropping down, I looked up as it 
passed in front of my face and fell into 
my lap. I caught it up and held it to 
my lips, — then my mother spoke: 

"Ah Mary Elizabeth, have you lis- 
tened to the oak and vine? And tell me, 
my child, are you willing to risk losing the 
108 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

beauty of your treasured tree to help 
save the life, and give happiness to a 
poor little wild vine? Tell me, tell me 
your mother are you willing, and would 
you risk your own beauty to give aid 
to a little sick orphan child, as thus the 
vine is? Now speak truthfully my little 
one." 

"Yes, twice yes, my dear mother, 
both I am willing to do. I love my 
mother tree, but I could not feel so se- 
cure in her love were she to let even a 
vine die beside her, without giving it 
her aid. And as for myself, try me, 
only try me, mother dear." O sweet 
book, then my mother's voice spoke 
again, thus: 

"My own little babe, my precious 
child, you have indeed been true to my 
teachings. O little one, the first voice 
109 



My Dream Life 

was a feigned, a false one to try, to 
tempt you, my darling. I your mother 
will save the little wild vine, do you hear 
me little vine, come nearer, look up, 
and creep to me, we will all give thee 
help: the sunshine and dewdrops will 
be with you, and you Mary Elizabeth, 
you will see that it is not harmed by 
man or others." 

To this I gave my promise, —and so 
I will. 

Then again the little vine spoke: 

"0 1 am thankful, grateful, and will 
do my best. I will give all that is mine, 
— love and gratitude. Still wait you, be 
patient, O beautiful tree, in time a power 
may be given me to prove my willing- 
ness, and true gratitude to you. 

I am weary, I am weary now, and 
the light is all ahead, afar, afar you say. 
110 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

Well be it so, only let me live within the 
shelter of your love; then Faith and 
Hope will do all else for me, dear tree." 
"Ill grant your great desire,you poor 
little blighted wild thing, so come to 
me, come rapidly, but with a care that 
you do not scar your tender arms on 
my rough body." Thus spoke my 
mother tree, — then all was silence. 




AND now sweet book I will tell you of 
my party. Ah me, it was lovely, so 
was my white frilled lawn. Father said 
that if I wished I could wear my 
mother's pearl strands, but I did not as 
I had made a necklace to my liking, can 
you guess in what manner? Of course 
ill 



My Dream Life 

not, so listen. For days I had saved the 
acorns as they fell, until I had gathered 
a goodly number; these I strung as 
beads to wear about my neck. They 
were very beautiful where the long 
strand hung over my white bodice, 
showing their soft gray-green coloring. 

Now and again I touched them to my 
lips, then my mother's voice would 
come. Once when Bobbie and I had 
wandered away from the others, he 
caught my hand and was begging for 
my promise. I knew how well I loved 
him, but to say yea or nay, I knew not 
which, until my mother spoke, and she 
said "yea." 

Ah my mother tree, what would I 
know if not for your counsels. 

"Yea, my Mary Elizabeth, say yea, 
it is the dear God's will as you two 
112 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

were formed as one, one life, one soul, 
divided into two bodies of earthly clay. 
You are to live as one being, with love 
and joy to stand between you, to walk 
at your side, to lead you over life's way. 
Give with your heart, your best-self, 
your love and trust; as he will give to 
you, my child." 

I had stopped, with Bobbie at my 
side, down by the lily pond. He must 
have seen something in my face, and 
with a quiver in his voice asked: 

"What is it Maybeth" thus he has 
called me always, as his childish tongue 
had formed my name in the long ago 
days. "What is it Maybeth? There 
is a strange, far away look in your eyes, 
and your lips quiver, my darling. Did 
you hear anything, did anybody speak? 
But no, of course not, we two are entirely 
113 



My Dream Life 

alone. Was it my question? let it not 
trouble you, I am too hasty, I can wait 
a day, a week; my love be happy today, 
I will speak to your father tonight, then 
you can give the yea. It will be yea, 
will it not, my other self?" 

"Ah that is it. Ah Bobbie dear how 
did you know, how did you know to 
say it the same as I? 

"Yea, it is yea Bobbie, as you are my 
other self we are only one in two bodies." 

"How, why do you speak thus, May- 
beth, as though somebody had prompted 
the saying?" 

"You are right Bobbie, I was told 
that which I have repeated. And you, 
why did you call me your other self?" 

"I know not, only with the thought 
that we two belonged to one another, 
and thus spoke my heart, dear one. 
114 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

But with you it is different, you say 
you were told; by whom, pray, who but 
your father or mother would speak so 
to you?'' 

"My mother! so you have guessed it, 
Bobbie; still you will not allude to it 
before others, — let it remain a secret 
between ourselves, shall it not?" 

"Indeed yes, though I do not under- 
stand your meaning, Maybeth: your 
dream as I take it, some sweet childish 
dream, will be safe in my keeping, my 
dear other self. there again I have 
used the phrase, it dropped from my 
lips without my forming the words, 
though in truth with a strange feeling 
in my heart at the moment. And so my 
answer is yea, yea my dear one?" 

"Yea Bobbie, and in truth to tell I 
could never have said nay." 
115 



My Dream Life 

And then sweet book the pink spots 
came, came and remained the balance of 
the afternoon, and until after Bobbie 
had gone. And why? because, dear 
book, my other self pressed so many 
kisses on my lips, cheeks and hands, 
that I even felt my face growing pink 
to the curls on my temples. But ah 
me! it was sweet, as indeed I love my 
Bobbie self so very, very much. 

And father, my dear, dear father 
smiled upon us and gave his blessing; 
then said: 

"You were surely intended for each 
other, and my dear children it is my be- 
lief you have loved since Bobbie was 
six and Mary Elizabeth three. But you 
must wait some years, perhaps when 
Maybe th is eighteen, and you Bobbie 
one and twenty." 

116 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

"Ah I see, father you wish me to con- 
tinue my studies with mademoiselle and 
with you, I consent. And by then Bob- 
bie will have become a great scholar, is 
it not so? 1 ' 

"Well perhaps, my child, and three 
years is not long. And it is my wish, 
also, that you remain here in your old 
home, we could not get along without 
Mary Elizabeth in our daily life: this 
you must know, Robert Lee, you 
cannot take her from the Guiding 
Oak." 

"It shall be as you wish, sir. I am 
too happy to desire other than will 
please you and Maybeth" answered 
Bobbie bravely. 

And then dear book, my other self 
and I went from the house down the 
walk to my mother tree, and there we 
117 



My Dream Life 

plighted our troth in the moonlit gar- 
den, with Love and Joy at our sides. 

Thus ended my birthday party, dear 
book. 




TWO years later, again the fifteenth of 
June. 
I was awakened by my singing birds, 
the birds alone, — the first birthday in 
my memory not to find Uncle Henry 
beneath my window. He, dear old man, 
could not come, he is sleeping in the 
family lot, beside old mammy, and his 
grave is white with my flowers: today I 
gave them to him as he was wont to 
give to me. By another year they will 
118 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

bloom for him on the grave, I will plant 
them when the north wind blows. 

There: I cannot write more today, as 
I see Bobbie riding up the avenue. He 
will expect me to meet him, to receive 
his greetings and his flowers, — Bob- 
bie I love you more and more each day! 




O SWEET book, how can I tell you, 
how can I write it? Ah me, I 
fear my heart will break, I am so sad, 
so sorry; but listen I will try. 

When I left you yesterday to receive 
my true love, my other self, I was sur- 
prised to find the sun hidden under a 

119 



My Dream Life 

heavy, dark cloud, and a storm com- 
ing. Indeed it was upon us, father 
said, without a moment's warning. 
It had come swiftly up the valley 
with a great rush of wind. We could 
hear the moaning of the trees, as they 
were swayed and bent and strained, as 
the wind swept through the gorge— 
with the sound of a lashing sea. At last 
it reached our garden, and all unre- 
strained spent its fury switching and 
lashing our noble trees. My mother,- 
the dear Guiding Oak — bending grace- 
fully, grandly, and the while protecting 
the wild grape vine. Ah the poor little 
vine, you are indeed a miracle. None 
would have believed that within two 
years time you could have climbed half 
way up my mother tree, and crept 
around her many arms. O little vine 
120 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

who will care for you now if my mother 
lives no longer. 

There, you have been told, pretty 
book; but wait, you have not heard all. 

The wind rushed on and on, uplifting 
the shrubs, pressing down the sweet ten- 
der flowers to the earth, — and brought 
desolation, as the very air appeared to 
darken and grow cold. The wind too, 
had spent its strength for a time. All 
were silent, the wind, the trees, all, — as 
from some great fatigue. 

Father, Bobbie and I, were watching 
from the casement, my hands were cold, 
as on our saddest day. Darker grew the 
sky, a low, long rumbling sound came 
to where we stood. I grew faint with 
a sickening fear; my father caught and 
held me in his arms as the worst hap- 
pened. 

121 



My Dream Life 

The heavens opened, letting out a 
great streak of fire, I felt it coming, my 
eyes were upon it. I could hear the 
heavy throbs of my heart. I clung to 
my father, watching, waiting, — for what 
I knew not. The great light narrowed 
as it left the heavens, and hung the 
briefest time midway to the earth : then 
down, down came that glowing spear of 
light, darting across the garden, then 
down, still down until it struck the wet 
earth beyond. With it a loud, long peal 
of thunder, a rush of wind, — a crash 
of falling timber. Then I heard no 
more, I laid as one dead in my father's 
arms. I too had felt the shock, felt it 
in my heart; but I live. O my mother, 
O my mother tree! Father, Bobbie, 
both dropped the words softly, gently, 
to let me know from them the sad 
122 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

meaning of the crashing sound: that 
the cruel spear of light had cut a path 
straight through the heart of the Guid- 
ing Oak, midway to its topmost tip. 
Broken, fallen, crushed, and now all lay 
upon the ground, — the uppermost part, 
the great guiding arms of my mother 
tree. 

That was the last, the storm had 
done its heartbreaking w r ork, then passed 
into the vast beyond. 

Ah me, how sad to think of the 
broad, untouched land back of the gar- 
den plat: could not that fiery bolt have 
found a broader path than through the 
heart of the Guiding Oak? 

O, I feel a revenge, an aversion to the 

very heavens. Could not God have 

willed it otherwise than first to take my 

true mother, then to crush down my 

123 



My Dream Life 

mother tree? O, I fear to think, I fear 
me there may be no God as I am taught 
to believe. I fear, I tremble, I grow 
sick. I cannot write more: I will go to 
my poor blighted oak, my mother's 
voice will guide me, — guide my thoughts 
from temptation. 



AFTER leaving you, pretty book, I 
walked down the garden path; all 
seemed new, I felt me in a strange land, — 
the blue sky showed clear and bright 
overhead, where the oak towered but two 
days before. And the lilies, the tall white 
lilies, are no more, they too were broken 
and crushed; and now their delicate 
white blossoms and long green stalks 
124 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

lay covered with sand and clay. These 
I passed by with the wonder if my dear 
young mother could see, could know . 

I reached the Guiding Oak, O dear 
tree! you can no longer be called thus — 
only in memory. You are already 
spoken of as the Great Blasted Oak. 

I sat me on the cypress seat and 
looked about, — the broken arms! some 
in a heap, some scattered afar out, then 
tossed by the winds: and everywhere 
the blighted acorns, great and small. 

At sight of them and the exposed 
white of my dear tree's heart, I grew 
more bitter than ever before. 

Why, why should this be? I do 
not believe it was God's work. I am 
sick, I wish my mother, will she come? 
Can you come, mother voice, through 
your prostrated body? 
125 



My Dream Life 

As I cried thus, a small blighted acorn, 
a teardrop, fell at my feet: and a voice 
came, a thin, soft, pleading voice and it 
said: 

"Mary Elizabeth, cease your repin- 
ing. Do you not remember that years 
ago your mother said if you resisted and 
rebelled against your Heavenly Father's 
will she would not, could not, come to 
you, and now what are you doing? Your 
mother is grieved, grieved for you, her 
little child, and she cannot give it help." 

"Yes, yes I remember, I had forgot- 
ten. But why did God take my mother 
tree?" I asked. 

"A voice, only a voice, Mary Eliza- 
beth, from the wild grape vine. As I 
have said, you cannot hear your moth- 
er's voice while you have such thoughts 
in your heart as are now there; and dear 
126 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

child do you think your mother tree will 
love you unless you are pure of thought 
and keep a Christ-like forbearance in 
your heart? 

If you will listen I will tell you of 
greater trials than you bear." 

And I answered, "I will listen, little 
vine," so again the strange thin voice: 

"You remember the day you saved 
the life of the bleached, stunted vine of 
the woodland, look up, look at me now. 
Do you not think I have struggled to 
attain this height? Do you think I en- 
joyed having your friends stand there 
and admire and extol the beauty of the 
Guiding Oak, and never even mention 
me? But if they did perchance speak 
of me it was to draw someone's atten- 
tion to my existence, and all would say 
I should not be allowed to climb up the 
127 



My Dream Life 

oak, that I detracted from its beauty, 
I would sap its life. 

Believe me, it required all my strength 
to attain this height, and at the same 
time hold fast to Love and Gratitude; 
and harder still to prevent Jealousy 
creeping up and hiding beneath my tiny 
leaves. And now victory was nearly 
won; within a few weeks, a few months, 
I would have reached the topmost tip, 
—now I can never go farther than you 
see me. But I do not regret, I only re- 
joice that the time, the power, is mine 
to prove my willingness to give, to give 
all to our mother tree. 

Do you not see her poor bleeding body, 
lacerated and torn, exposed to the sun, 
the insects, and the ones who so admired 
her in the days of her glory? 

Now who can, who will care for and 
128 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

protect her bleeding heart, who think 
you, Maybe th? I will tell you, it will 
be none other than the little bleached 
out, stunted vine! I will do this. I 
will creep on and on, making a thick 
covering over her wounds; I will give 
shade to her broken body ; I will festoon 
myself from her poor scarred arms and 
drape her body with my softest leaves 
and tendrils. Then all will still admire 
her exquisite breadth, and deep shade 
beneath. 

And now know you this forever more. 
All great and beautiful things; all lesser 
and poorly things, must drop from their 
places and sit lowly, before reaching 
their Father's mansion. So down, down 
on your knees, Mary Elizabeth, and 
pray the dear Father in heaven to for- 
give, to take from your heart the evil 
129 



My Dream Life 

you allowed to enter. Kneel quickly, 
and pray as you were taught by your 
own true mother, little child." 

Ah me! that last was said in my 
mother's voice; I knelt, I prayed, and 
my mother sent down a tear. 

And now, pretty book, my heart is 
light, — I am forgiven. 




ANOTHER fifteenth of June; a glori- 
ously beautiful summer day. My 
eighteenth birthday, — my bridal day. 
And for me the roses, the lilies, the flowers, 
vines and shrubs, and all else that ever 
bloomed, have blossomed their fullest, 
their sweetest : the air is rilled with their 
sweetness, and resounds with the songs 
130 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

of my many birds. And too my mother 
tree and the wild grape vine are re- 
splendent in their beauty. 

Ah, my poor blasted oak still lives, 
and is of a greater beauty; it is even now 
taller than any other in the garden. 




My father had her arms trimmed and 
shaped in such a way that to strangers 
the top appears quite natural. Then 
too it has branched out to a greater de- 
gree,— as many as a hundred persons 
can be sheltered within its shade; and 
the vine has covered all scars. dear 
little vine, none would have dreamed of 
131 



My Dream Life 

you ever being so magnificent. Your 
graceful festoons and sweet purple fruit 
are admired now as much as the Guid- 
ing Oak ever was. 

Your life, little vine, belongs to my 
mothers, the real and the mother tree. 
One prevented you being uprooted, she 
knew that which we did not: the other 
gave you her sheltering love and you 
now cling to her body, as the years roll 
on and on. 

And now today an altar has been 
erected beneath the broad arms, white 
and flower-trimmed, and there I, your 
little child, and my other self, knelt and 
exchanged vows which none but God 
shall put asunder. 

Ah the good, the Great One, who 
knoweth all things! 




Legend of the Guiding Oak 

AND still another fifteenth of June, 
and another two years have slipped 
away, these as if on butterfly wings, — as 
indeed it seems to my other self and 
me. Two years of unutterable happi- 
ness, a joy born of Truth and Faith, 
Love and Forbearance. Bobbie, my 
dear, dear husband, my loyal other self, 
— and the other, a wee bit of an elf, 
born in its father's image: it too has 
dark gray eyes and nut brown hair. 

Can you guess, pretty book, do you 
guess my wonderful happiness? You 
cannot, I must tell it to your rose tinted 
leaves. Yes, tell that I, Maybeth Lee, 
holds a little child to my breast, to nour- 
ish it to strength, to shelter and guide it 
to our Father's mansion. I, a mother. 
Ah, is it not a holy office? 

And Bobbie, he is awed and almost 
133 



My Dream Life 

frightened. He prays, prays more fer- 
vently than ever, for strength to follow 
his father's teachings: that he may not 
fail in his great and holy responsibility 
of guiding a son's footsteps. Another 
Robert Lee. And my own dear father, 
too, is happy, happy in our peace and 
love. 

Last night Bobbie carried the little 
elf in his arms, we strolled down the 
garden walk to my mother tree, and 
sat on the cypress seat, — sat as did my 
father and mother in the joyous days 
of their youth, and I the little elf. It 
was my father's hour, we knew he would 
come to us, to watch the sun drop and 
the shadows spread until they covered 
the earth. Soon I heard his footsteps 
on the gravel, I looked up with a strange 
feeling in my heart. As I looked a 
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Legend of the Guiding Oak 

shadow, a vapor-like shadow, arose 
from the ground and floated at his side. 
Of this I will tell none but you, sweet 
book, so listen — 

On came my father, with his straight, 
erect bearing, and light springy step. 
His silvery hair brushed off his temples 
and laying soft, but unruffled on his 
brow. I thought him somewhat pale, 
with a dreamy expression. Then in a 
moment he was with us; but no word 
did he say, only a little sigh escaped his 
lips as he sat down beside me, — with the 
shadow in between. 

Ah me ! can I tell even you, my rose 
leaves, that this vapor-shadow had, in 
my eyes, taken the form of my own 
precious mother, as I was taught to know 
her. I felt no fear, but my hands grew 
cold and trembled, all unlike ever before. 
135 



My Dream Life 

The sun dropped and crept away, and 
the gold, with rose and gray tinted the 
sunset clouds. Still the vapor shadow 
remained, and a silence was with us that 
seemed to soften, almost to still, our 
hearts. Then had come the purple 
light my mother loved in her living 
days, and too with it her sweet voice, 
and it spoke thus to my heart, little 
book: 

"Ah! Mary Elizabeth, my little child, 
you are indeed blessed and thus you will 
be for many, many years; though one 
will soon go from you, go to come to 
me. Grieve not when the time comes 
for the passing as it will be my joy, my 
resurrection, and his. 

"You have done much, all that one 
could to fill another's place, — and it is 
recorded. But only the briefest time 
136 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

will all be as today with you. After the 
passing I, your mother, may not be 
able to come to you, as then our lives — 
your father's and mine — will have just 
begun in the purple light of the far 
beyond. 

"And in time, if your path grows 
steep and rough, little one, keep to the 
center and look up while asking your 
heart for guidance: it will never fail to 
point you to the simple right as long as 
you remember my teachings. And my 
teachings are now yours, you are in my 
place, you are a mother, you have been 
given the holy office of teaching a little 
child, to guide its little feet in the path 
of right. Ah! Mary Elizabeth, be true 
to your father and mother, be true to 
yourself, and remember the simple 
right." 

137 



My Dream Life 

As my mother uttered the last, the 
voice and vapor shadow floated away. 
The purple light faded and a gray mist 
came of a sudden, and enveloped the land. 

All had been so thoughtful, so quiet; 
we did not notice the changing until my 
mother tree sent down an acorn, and it 
fell upon the little elf, who laid sleep- 
ing in its father's arms, — as another 
little child, so long ago. 

My little elf stirred, then cried out, 
thus we were brought from our dreams. 
And my father, O my dear father, called 
out: 

" Arise and to the house, my children, 
the night has fallen." 





138 



Legend of the Guiding Oak 

ANOTHER year has gone and my rose 
leaves not touched in that time; 
but today I must tell you my last. Not 
in grief, not in sorrow did I lay my dear 
father away, — ah me! not with my 
mother's words imprinted in my 
thoughts could I be so selfish as to wish 
him with me. 

And I, I have so much, I have my 
other self and our little elf, he took his 
first step today and can lisp his dear 
father's name. Ah my babe, my little 
one, I must watch that I do not fail in 
my care of you. There I hear you now, 
you want mother, so my sweet pretty 
book, my sweet rose leaves, you I lay 
aside as I belong to him. But you I 
will keep, keep and treasure, as between 
your covers my mother's spirit, with the 
sweet memory of my dear father's love, 
139 



My Dream Life 

rest upon your leaves. Then too the 
mysteries of the little vine and the 
Guiding Oak, — my mother tree. 

Ah yes, you are indeed dear to me. 

Thus I close you tenderly, and lay 
you away, and now it is adieu, adieu my 
pretty book, tonight and forever more. 





Thus, in my Twilight Study, 
I dreamed of Life, Life of the Dawn, 
Life of the Dusk. 



Bel-Air, 1910-1914 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



018 604 840 4 @ 



